


Fire

by AnnDerry



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: AND SWEET, Aftercare, Arrow House, At Arrow House..., Bathtub, Consensual Sex, F/M, Fluff, Getting what he wants but being nice about it, Heroine is an adult, Inspired By Peaky Blinders, Loss of Virginity, Lovely things happen, Set in series 3/4, Snow, Snowed In, Timelines do not match up - I know - sorry :), Tommy being gentle, Tommy being master of his house, Tommy x Maid, We know deep down that Tommy is soft, Winter, did I mention that they are snowed in ?, fireside
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:15:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27867478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnDerry/pseuds/AnnDerry
Summary: A new maid at Arrow House finds herself waiting on Tommy Shelby alone one snowy night - all night...
Relationships: Tommy Shelby/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 74





	1. Snowed In

**Author's Note:**

> Hello lovely people, 
> 
> So here is my attempt at a Tommy x Maid fic. There's really not a lot of backstory on this one and I don't plan to develop it into a long series, just a few chapters. Hope you enjoy it. Happy Christmas! x

Tommy Shelby’s deep blue eyes studied me as I worked quietly around him, removing plates and cutlery, refilling water and whiskey glasses. He sat alone, smoking at the end of his long dining table. He had hardly touched his dinner. Perhaps he was still angry with his brothers who he had sent away two hours ago after much cursing and shouting from the study, the ruckus which could be heard as far away as the kitchen. 

The huge oil portrait depicting him with his grey racehorse, Grace’s Secret hung on the wall behind us, so there were actually two pairs of Tommy Shelby’s eyes watching me. I hardly dared to breathe as I leaned over to reach a stray knife, almost toppling over in the process. I could sense the master’s impatience at my clumsiness but was surprised when he picked up the knife himself and handed it to me. 

‘Thank you,’ I said quietly and turned away with my tray to return to the kitchen.

I’d not traveled more than a few steps when I heard him clear his throat and speak in his sonorous Birmingham accent that never failed to raise my pulse. 

‘Thank you, what?’ he said with menace.

‘Um… thank you…Sir?’ I said hesitantly, turning to face him. 

He regarded me serenely and nodded at the acceptance of my mistake. ‘It’s Clara, isn’t it? You’re a new maid here.’ 

I nodded. ‘Yes, sir.’ I didn’t expect him to remember my name as we had only been briefly introduced three weeks ago and he had hardly acknowledged my presence then when Francis, the housekeeper had made me stand in the great hall as he passed through on his way out to work one morning. I remember that his eyes had appraised me up and down in a most disconcerting way and he had grunted a curt welcome, then turned on his heels and strode out to meet his waiting driver. Tonight, was the first time I had waited on him alone. My training was not yet complete, and Francis was very particular about us maids having contact with the master before we were ready. 

‘Where’s Francis?’ he asked.

‘She went to visit her sister this afternoon but is unable to return tonight because of the snow. It’s nearly two-foot deep already. She telephoned about half an hour before your arrival, so she does not know that you are returned, Sir. I’m sure she would have not gone away if she knew that you were coming back early and…’ I stopped talking abruptly because he was looking at me with incredulity and I knew that I had said too much. 

He cleared his throat. ‘Francis tells me you have no family. That she found you from one of my charitable foundations?’

‘It is true, Mister Shelby. You and your family have been very kind to me and to all the other orphans in need of help.’

‘She also told me that when you turned eighteen, you decided to stay on and teach the children their lessons, and now that you are twenty-two, you asked for a new position. Why is that? Were you not happy there?’

I was shocked that he knew so much about me and wanted to let him know that I was not ungrateful for the help he had given me and countless others. Every now and then we would get brief glimpses of him when he came to visit the orphanage. When I turned eighteen and had started to teach the children, I remember being struck by how handsome and serious he was. He would always show kindness though, especially with the younger children, and hand over a shilling or two. His sister or aunt would bring sweets, and everyone would be happy and long for his next visit. 

‘I lost my family when I was fourteen, Sir, and was lucky enough to be taken in by your charity. I was educated in London and wanted to help the other girls, with their reading and writing but I would like to be a governess at a big country house. The matron of the Grace Shelby Foundation heard that you were looking for new staff and thought it would be a good experience for me to understand how a gentleman’s residence is run. For which I am grateful.’

He was silent for a few moments and smoked his cigarette in contemplation. Then he stood, stubbing it out in a heavy crystal ashtray. ‘I’ll be in my study. You may go.’

‘Yes, Sir,’ I said and walked in front of him toward the door at the other end of the room. Deep breaths, I told myself as I precariously balanced the tray in my hands and tried to work out how I was going to open the door. I was acutely aware of Tommy Shelby two paces behind me.

As I tried to delicately hook my foot on the half-open door, a glass pepper pot rolled off my tray, smashing on the floor into smithereens and I gasped in horror. I was really messing this up, I was sure to be fired at this rate. 

‘I’m so sorry, Sir,’ I cried. ‘Please take the cost out of my wages.’

‘Clara,’ said Mister Shelby evenly. ‘Just clean it up, it’s only a pepper pot. I’m sure the Shelby Company can stretch to a new one.’ 

‘Thank you, Sir,’ I said as a hot flush crept across my face. He opened the door for me like a gentleman would and allowed me to walk through before him, then I stood back and made a space for him to pass. He reached the door to his office but before he turned the handle, he fixed me with a look that was tinged with amusement. 

‘Maids at Arrow House only get fired for burnt toast and gossip. Though if they talk to the police, they may get shot,’ he said and disappeared into his study. 

He really was terrifyingly attractive, so in control and sure of himself. I cringed inwardly at my display of incompetence. As I took the tray down to the kitchen and then a dustpan and brush back upstairs to clean up the broken pepper pot, I sincerely hoped that he would not need my services again this evening avoid any further awkwardness on my part.

The kitchen at Arrow House was winding down for the night. Given the absence of Mister Tommy Shelby for the last few days, Frances, had given permission for the two other maids to take the night off and she herself had traveled into Birmingham this afternoon to visit her sister believing that he would not be back in Warwickshire for another two days. As a result, the mansion was running on a skeleton staff. 

The chef, his crew, the gardener, and grooms had pushed off to bed. They lived in accommodation above the stables. Francis had ordered the separate sleeping arrangements to keep the male and female staff apart to avoid anyone creeping through the corridors in the dead of night for assignations of passion. Because of the master’s occupation, this arrangement was just as much for the men’s safety as well as the women's. He had many enemies, and the male staff could just as easily be shot, mistaken for would-be assassins, as the maids would for talking to the police. Though, I wasn’t really sure if he was being serious about that. I’d ask Francis tomorrow. 

The snow was piling up against the kitchen door and I struggled to turn the heavy key in the lock to make everything secure. I made myself a cup of tea and sat at the kitchen table wondering if I should wait until Mister Shelby retired for the night before I went to bed myself. Yes, that would be the best thing to do. So, I waited. And waited. At length, the bell to the study rang, startling me out of my thoughts. I checked my appearance, smoothed my hair, and ascended the staircase to the study, and gently knocked on the dark, oak paneled door. 

‘Come,’ he said in that deep sexy voice. 

I hesitantly peered around the door and took a few steps inside the room which was lined with dark bookcases. He stood behind his huge mahogany desk. It was bedecked with papers and ornaments that represented his power and status. An eagle ink well, two lion paperweights, as well as bronze racehorses, sat before him. He didn’t look at me as he spoke but was peering out of the window with a whiskey in hand.

‘You were right about the snow, Clara. There will be no one getting through this storm. Who else is left in the house tonight?’ 

‘Well, the chef and all the men-servants have gone to bed,’ I said.

‘In their quarters, above the stables?’

I nodded. ‘Yes, Sir. I have locked the kitchen door.’ 

He grunted, took a cigarette from a silver case, and slowly rolled the butt across his bottom lip before lighting it and staring right at me. Having his full attention was oddly thrilling. 

‘What about the other maids? Martha and Sally.’

‘Francis gave them the night off, Mister Shelby.’

‘I see,’ he said. ‘So that just leaves you and me, Clara.’

I didn’t know why but a hot flush crept over my skin as he spoke that sentence because it felt laden with something like intent. ‘Yes, Sir, because Charlie is still with your sister. As you know,’ I blurted out and wished I hadn’t because he obviously knew where his son was. 

He raised his eyebrows and murmured, ‘Yes. ‘I’ve got some calls to make. Lock the front door then go up to my bedroom and light a fire. Francis usually gets one of the men to do it but as she is not here, I expect no one has bothered and you were not to know. It will be cold up there tonight.’ 

A fire. Oh hell. I didn’t know how to light a proper fire. Especially one good enough to warm a bedroom. I would just have to pretend that I did. 

‘Of course, Sir.’ I was annoying myself with the number of times I was ‘sirring’ him, but I dare not omit the word when I addressed him now just in case he got angry with me again. Better to be safe than sorry. 

Before I bolted the massive front doors together, I watched the snowfall a while. It was nearly up to four feet now and even six-foot in places where drifts had blown against walls by a stiff breeze. I loved the snow and had fond memories of playing in it as a child. It reminded me of happier times. Great winter snowstorms were exciting and I enjoyed being cozy and warm while the weather raged outside. I shivered now because the house was draughty and when the bolt slid into place and the view of the thick white blanket disappeared, I was struck by the realization that I was indeed alone in Arrow House with Mister Thomas Shelby for the night. Not just that, but I would shortly be entering his bedroom to prepare it for his arrival.


	2. Master Bedroom

The master bedroom was everything that it ought to be. Set in the centre of the house, the windows overlooked the carriage drive with a fine aspect out toward the extensive grounds which were now covered deeply in snow. Such was the raging snowstorm that all four corners of each tall glass window were part obscured in soft white powder. I felt like I had entered a forbidden lair as I tiptoed into the room and took in the sight of the massive king size bed with its opulent covers. The master’s wife had passed some time ago and he had not yet remarried. Francis had let slip that she felt he was lonely, but the grooms countered that by gossiping that he frequently stayed at the Midland Hotel in Birmingham with no shortage of female companions. Whatever side you were on, very few, if any women stayed overnight at Arrow House these past few months. 

I straightened out the cushions on the bed and stroked my hand on the expensive sheets allowing myself to imagine what it would be like to have them sliding over my bare skin. I scoffed at myself. Mister Thomas Shelby would not look twice at a girl like me, twenty-two and not experienced in the ways of men and yet, the way he had spoken to me in his office just now was unnerving. Here I was in his bedroom, alone with not another soul in the house except for himself. He would be up soon, I needed to get the fire going and make myself scarce before he arrived. Surely, it could not be that hard? 

It was a fact that I had absolutely no idea what I was doing as I struck a match and tried to light the big chunks of wood which I had piled into the grate. Every bloody match would not take hold of the logs or they would fizzle out in a plume of blue smoke from a draft emitted within the chimney before I even got the flame near the wood. I began to panic. I knelt next to the hearth and tried again and again, but with no luck at all. Worse, I could now hear the master’s footsteps striding closer along the corridor. 

I froze when he entered the room. I knew he was there even though my back was facing him. I could sense the aura of the man. He did not speak but I could hear him move across the room towards me. I didn’t even want to look at him but when he was two feet away from me, I had no choice and glanced up at him before quickly turning back to the fire.

‘Having trouble?’ Just like earlier in the night, his voice had a hint of amusement in its tone.

I wanted to cry out with frustration and tell him that I couldn’t do it but instead I gave him my stock answer.

‘Yes, sir,’ I said and made a move to stand up.

‘It’s alright, Clara.’ he said softly. ‘You stay on your knees.’ 

‘Sir?’ 

He was looking at me intently and I noticed that my black satin skirt was rucked up to mid-thigh. He’d not been hungry for dinner but the way his blue eyes were flicking over my body, his head tilted slightly to the side, he now looked ravenous. 

He took his jacket off and flung it on the chair beside the fire. ‘Right, admit it. You’ve no idea how to light a fire, have you?’ 

I shook my head in agreement miserably, expecting him to be angry again, but he smiled and crouched down next to me. ‘It’s alright. You’ve not been taught yet, eh?’

Now that he was inches away from me, the scent of his cologne mixed slightly with tobacco hung in the air. His white shirt was pristine and slung around his shoulders was a leather gun holder with a pistol in the sheath. I’d never seen a gun before and I couldn’t tear my wary eyes from it. He noticed. 

‘Does the gun worry you?’ he asked gently. 

‘Scares me a bit,’ I told him truthfully. 

‘You’re safe with me, Clara. I carry a gun for protection. To protect me and to protect those loyal to me. Understand?’

I nodded and he started to remove the big chunks of wood and replace them with smaller pieces which he piled up in a sort of cone shape along with some crumpled bits of paper. ‘You see, you have to start small,’ he said. ‘Here, strike a match and try to light it now.’ 

I did as he bid, then cursed as the match once again blew out. Tears threatened and I huffed out a frustrated sigh. ‘I’m just no good at it, Sir.’ 

‘Try again,’ he said in a soothing voice. All his annoyance from the dining table had gone and he was now giving me a look of kind encouragement. 

This time, as soon as the match was struck, he cupped his hands around mine and gently guided them to the pile of wood, protecting the flame in the process. His hands felt rough and warm against my skin and I caught my breath at the contact. 

The flame took to the wood and soon it was flickering and dancing. ‘Now, we add some bigger pieces,’ he said, handing me one which I placed on top of the burning sticks. Soon, the log was crackling and popping so, looking at Mister Shelby for confirmation, I added another, then another until the fire was burning brightly.

‘It worked,’ I said with delight. 

‘I’ll instruct Francis that you are to light the fire in my bedroom from now on,’ he said with a wink. 

I smiled shyly and for a few moments watched the flames rise and basked in the warmth they brought to the room. I tended to the fire while he rose, lit a cigarette and watched me. I was so relieved that the master was not angry with me that I could have stayed by the fire in its comforting glow all night but feeling his gaze upon me, I stood up and self-consciously adjusted my skirt. 

‘Well, good night, Sir and thank you for your help with the fire. I’ll be sure to remember how to do it next time.’ 

Once again as I walked away from him, padding over his thick expensive carpet, he stopped me in my tracks. 

‘Clara,’ he said, my name dripping slowly over his tongue. ‘I haven’t dismissed you yet.’

I spun around blushing. Of course, I was forgetting my place – again. ‘Oh, is there something else you need, sir?’ I asked while mentally kicking myself at my stupidity.

He paused and I gazed upon his face apprehensively waiting for his instruction. The firelight reflected in his eyes, burning bright red, like the Devil himself. A handsome, powerful devil, nonetheless. ‘Your bedroom will be cold tonight, Clara. Freezing in fact. No fire lit up there in the east wing. No other maids to accompany you.’

Slowly, I comprehended what he was implying. Equal measures of heat and trepidation bounded through my veins and my response was rushed as I tried to test his meaning. ‘I’ll be safe knowing you are in the house, Sir, and I can light a fire now that you have taught me.’

‘Hmm, I think one fire will be enough tonight,’ he said, making himself clear. He casually threw the butt of his cigarette into the fire and slowly circled me as I stood as still as a statue. ‘There are other things I can teach you.’

‘Other things, Sir?’ I said quietly.

‘Things that will please me. You do want to please me, don’t you, Clara? That’s what I employ you for.’

I could not disagree and the rush of pleasure I experienced when the fire had lit confirmed that fact that I wanted him to think well of me. It looked like my master wanted a more personal service this evening, but I was certainly not experienced in the skills he desired. 

‘Yes, Sir.’

He was so close to me now, his body almost flush to mine and the steady pressure of his strong hand appearing on the small of my back anchored me closer still.

‘Good, girl,’ he whispered. His breath stole warm on my ear. ‘Maids at Arrow House are my property, Clara. You are mine to do with as I wish. Now, I try to keep a respectful distance from my staff, but you are very fucking pretty and we are snowed in and all alone and every time you look up at me, so apprehensive with those lovely green eyes, worrying whether you have said the right words to me…well… it makes me want to fuck you.’

My breathing quickened at his course words, his lips caressing my neck as he spoke. 

‘I’m a fair man though, and if you want to go and sleep in that cold attic bedroom alone all night then I’ll not hold it against you. I’ll even walk you up there myself through the dark corridors or…you can stay here in the light with me and keep warm. Tell me what you want, Clara.’


	3. Everything

Though his words were spoken in no more than a low rumble, they reverberated around my mind taking my own voice away as I contemplated my decision. The opportunity to socialise with men had never arisen in my life. Martha and Sally were always sloping off to meet their male friends and shocked me with their tales of passion. They also got extremely giggly when talking about the master. Francis always shut that sort of conversation down and here I was with an offer that they and countless women would jump at. A night with Thomas Shelby. I did not want to waste my time with inferior specimens. I would learn from the best. Deep down I felt that the master was a man with principles despite his reputation and apparent carnal desire. I was confident he would not hurt me, so I gave him the answer he wanted. 

‘I would like to stay with you, please,’ I confirmed. ‘Sir, I mean. I want to stay the night with a gentleman like you. I’d like that very much.’ 

He laughed. ‘I don’t know who told you I’m a gentleman. I’ve certainly got extremely ungentlemanlike plans for you this evening.’

‘You have?’ I said slightly worried that I had misjudged him. 

‘Uh-huh,’ he murmured into my neck and gently tugged at the band holding my hair in a neat ponytail. It slipped off easily and my shiny, dark locks fell about my face.  
He looked up and his eyes no longer lit by the red firelight, sparkled so blue, it was as if I was looking into a faraway ocean and I was helplessly starting to drown. What if I was no good at this? There was no way I was going to tell him how inexperienced I was. What if he didn’t find me attractive? Thankfully, he allayed my last fear with his next line. 

‘So fucking beautiful,’ he said as his hands slipped upwards to my face, holding me still so he could appraise me. Instinctively, I placed my hands on his wrists and found they were strong and set. His thumb circled gently under my jawline. ‘Your pulse is pounding like a rabbit caught in a trap. Are you frightened of me, Clara?’ 

I nodded. ‘A little, Sir,’ I admitted.

‘Don’t be,’ he said as he gently lowered his full, pouty lips to mine. My eyes fluttered shut as he tentatively explored my mouth, his tongue teasing and probing. I suddenly felt weak and helpless in his arms especially as he released the hold on my face, moving his hands to my waist. I tried to kiss him back, copying what he did to me, inhaling his masculine scent but practically leaping away from him when his passion became stronger and his teeth grazed my bottom lip, nipping and sucking.

He broke the kiss and gazed at me. His brow was furrowed, looking at me thoughtfully. ‘Are you alright?’ 

I lied through my teeth. ‘Yes, I’m fine.’ He continued to stare at me in silence and I could virtually see the cogs of his mind working me out.

‘Do you know I think, sweetheart? I’m fairly sure you’ve never even kissed a man before, let alone fucked one.’

I averted my eyes and shook my head not wanting to speak in case I gave myself away. He already must think I was the worst maid in the world, I didn’t want him to think I was bad at this too. I gazed upon the revolver in his leather gun holster and a thrill of fear shot through me. 

‘I’m wrong, eh?’ he said. ‘Fine then.’

‘What do you want me to do,’ I said quietly. 

‘Anything I want,’ he answered. ‘Everything.’ 

Swiftly he pushed me backward onto the chair by the fire. His body caged down on me, imprisoning my own. A strong hand caressed my throat as I arched up against the pressure, wide-eyed in anticipation of what he might be about to do. One thigh rested between my parted ones, pressing at my core. I gasped finding it hard to breathe.

Immobile as I was, he trailed his fingers from my neck to the low collar of my dress. With the barest of touches, they stroked the satin material that covered the swell of my breasts. Everything tightened. A tingling sensation stole across my skin and his fingers felt red hot as they provoked and teased my nipples. I cried out as he scissored his fore and index finger together, squeezing the hard bud that he had created. I watched what he was doing with fascination. 

‘Look at my face, Clara,’ he ordered. ‘Not my hands. Feel what I am doing to you.’

I was lost in his eyes which were now dark with lust. As he wickedly increased the pressure again, I cried out and shifted position. That caused my core to press more firmly onto him and an unfamiliar exquisite heat began to build. Every movement I made increased the sensation and he made sure that I writhed underneath him with every touch. 

‘Please, Mister Shelby…’ 

‘What do you want, Clara? Tell me.’

‘I…don’t know,’ I moaned, and the truth was I really didn’t know if I wanted him to stop or carry on. I just needed something. Something out of reach. ‘You know who I am and what I do. Tell me the truth and I’ll give you what you need.’

My breath was coming out short and sharp as I tried to comprehend the situation that I had gotten myself into. Still, I forced myself to hide the secret I held from him. 

‘The truth about what, Sir?’ I gasped. 

He let out a frustrated sigh, clearly seeing straight through my pitiful attempts at concealment. ‘Well then, Clara, if you have nothing more to say to me, I think I’ll fuck you like one of my whores. Hard.’

This sentence was too much for my fragile state of mind and he must have known that. ‘No, please, Mister Shelby. You were correct,’ I cried out in alarm. ‘I’m not experienced in the ways of men.’ 

My eyes cast down because I feared the gangster’s reaction. He was used to women who could swing from the chandeliers and here I was pretending that I could be like that too. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Why did you feel the need to lie to me?’ he asked gently. He was now watching me intently; his hand had stilled but I remained helpless underneath his powerful body. 

‘Because everything has gone wrong. You were never meant to come back early. I tried really hard this evening to do things perfectly for you, but I kept messing up, dropping things and then not being able to make the fire and forgetting my place when speaking to you. I didn’t want you to think I was useless at…this…too. But I am.’

He pursed his cushiony lips in thought before they curved upwards in the beginnings of a smile whilst running his knuckles softly down my cheek. 

‘Sweetheart, you are far from useless. Perhaps you’ve got a bit to learn yet from Francis. but I’m very happy at the way this evening has gone so far. There’s no one asking me to do anything for them. No unexpected phone calls. No life or death decisions to be made. No pressure for once. Just me and you, alone on a snowy night. It wasn’t what I expected but I’ve got a beautiful girl in my bedroom and she’s very sweet and never been touched by another man.’

‘So, you’re not angry with me?’ I whispered. ‘For lying.’

He shook his head and let out a small laugh. ‘No, I’m not angry but I’m not the sort of man that forces myself on women, especially someone as delicate as you. Those feelings going through your body right now are just the very tip of what I can show you. Do you want me to stop?’ 

I was right about him. I knew he was a good man deep down and the restraint he was showing me proved that. He could have taken what he wanted by now, but he had not. He was giving me a chance to decide what I wanted to do, and his compassion assuaged any fears I previously had. 

‘No, please don’t stop, Mister Shelby, Sir,’ I told him. 

‘Tommy,’ he said. ‘Call me Tommy tonight, sweetheart.’ 

‘Tommy,’ I repeated shyly and swallowed down a lump of emotion. 

It felt so strange to say his Christian name. For so long, I had owed my safety to him and his family. He was always addressed as Mister Shelby to all those at the foundation. Now the man I had admired from afar was raking his nails down the inside of my thigh. His lips were nuzzling mine and I kissed him back as he stroked my most intimate place. 

‘Never been touched before,’ he whispered. ‘Only me. Do you know how fucking good that makes me feel?’ 

I was in no state to respond. The awareness of what his fingers were doing to me had sent me into a shocked trance. He had pushed my underwear aside and was now sliding his fingers slowly into me. I cried out against his mouth. 

‘Hush,’ he said. ‘I’ll not hurt you. Trust me.’ 

‘Okay.’ 

I felt the fluttering building again, heat flowed out of me as he continued to stroke and tease a spot that I had only heard spoken about in secret whispers. Now I felt its full purpose in the hands of such an expert. He lifted me up, kissing me deeply all the while and sat in the chair himself, reversing our positions. My thighs now straddled his, while he swiftly tugged my dress above my head and flung it across the room, along with my brassiere which he made short work of removing too. With his hands on my waist, his eyes roamed across my body. Self-consciously, my arms flew up to cover my exposed curves. 

‘No,’ he ordered in a voice that I knew I should not disobey. ‘I want to fucking look at you. Don’t be ashamed. I like what I see. Show me.’ 

Slowly, I dropped my arms revealing the tight rosy buds that he wanted to admire. His head bent towards them and I hissed as he nibbled and flicked his tongue against them. I looked down on his dark, glossy hair. Long at the crown but short at the back and sides. Tentatively, I caressed the shaved base of his skull, loving the feel of the velvet stubble on my fingertips as he worked his mouth on my nipples. 

All the while I swayed on his lap because of the exquisite torment that he was putting me through and that’s when I felt him. Hard and ready, pressed so close to my centre with only a thin barrier of silk in his way. My first thought was to move away from it, I stared into his blue eyes searching for instruction but then my body took over. It felt good where it was, and I found myself grinding down on it. 

‘That’s what you need, sweetheart,’ he crooned. ‘What you desire. Such a quick learner.’ 

I felt ridiculously pleased by his endearment. He cradled me in his arms as he slid us off the chair on to the plush rug in front of the fire. I felt its flickering warmth stealing across my bare skin as he lay me down. His eyes never left mine as he knelt up and removed my underwear. His own gun and holster followed, and finally he pulled his shirt above his head revealing a pale muscular chest and sculpted arms, marked with tatoos and the scars of war. He was the most beautiful man I had ever seen, seemingly carved in the alabaster image of a Greek god. I would surely be worshipping him forever more. 

He kissed his way from my stomach to my lips, taking my mouth once again as I felt his weight blanket me. With my legs parted by his hips, the hard, blunt tip of him pressed at the entrance to my core. The timbre of his groan rumbled against my throat as he inched inside me. 

‘Fuuuck,’ he breathed. ‘It’s like you were made just for me.’

I moaned at the strange pressure, filling me up almost to the hilt, unsure whether the feeling of tightness was pleasing or not. He glanced down, stilled his movement and caressed my cheekbone with his thumb, reassuringly sweeping it gently across my flushed skin. When he moved his hips again, he kissed me deeply, distracting me slightly from the brief sharp pain that bolted through me. Any uncomfortableness was swept away by his low voice, telling me how beautiful and good I was; how I was his and his alone. 

I found myself wrapping my legs tightly around him as he took me in a faster rhythm. I could not tell how long we were entwined or in what excitingly ungodly positions he took me in. Soon, he became less gentle as carnal urges took over both our senses. I bucked and cried out as he pinned me into the rug, driving deep and sure. 

‘Tommy,’ I cried out as the force of him exquisitely pushed me over the edge somewhere I had never been before. I was almost afraid of it but again his reassurance worked its magic. 

‘Go with it, sweetheart,’ he murmured in a voice gruff with lust. 

The intense rush of sweet pleasure that overtook my senses went on and on, so much so that the room seemed to shimmer, and the firelight veiled hot on my skin. The colours of the plush surroundings grew brighter and the blue of Tommy’s eyes glittered like sapphires as they triumphantly watched me come spectacularly undone, shortly followed by the high of his own release. 

As the ebb drifted away, he kissed me softly, still entwined. When he finally disentangled us, he did so slowly and gently, murmuring endearments as he did. I watched him rise and wrap a white towel around his hips, not knowing how to behave with him but feeling absolutely flattened by a warmth inside my chest when I looked at him. He disappeared into the bathroom. The sound of running water could be heard. He returned and draped another towel over my thighs. ‘We’ll need to clean you up, sweetheart. Come on, can you stand?’ 

I wasn’t sure because my body was trembling with adrenaline, but he smiled at me encouragingly and I accepted the warm, strong hand that he offered. Patiently, as slowly as my shaky legs allowed, he guided me to the bathroom where steaming hot water tumbled like a waterfall into the spacious porcelain tub. Aromas of herbs and fragrant oils permeated the air. Francis ensured that Mister Shelby’s private quarters were stocked with only the very best soaps and colognes. The kind you would find in a five-star London hotel. I never would have imagined enjoying such luxury. My nakedness was no longer a worry for me, now it felt natural and right to be here in my master’s forbidden lair. He kissed me gently and handed me carefully into the water, not letting go of my hand until I sank down into the gorgeous, heated pool.


End file.
